Tuesday, December 24, 2013

less than an arm's length, to the adjoining building's sidewall,
flapping the found e. l. konigsburg book, past its brother and
sister's change of clothes in a violin case, to fringe on lecture
tour in the met. a rigid parting on the far left side, head down,
the flatted back rest. it slid, with a hand slapped on top bar of
the t on the t-shirt. swerved briefly across line creased cheek's
groan, medical record on the wrist's yawned-out read, another
eeaaaan, intravenous pump beeps, some rolling laundry cart's

upsized letter at the halfway of the thirlwell signature. fusing
of
front of thighs on the sofa's material. sweated dash on the centre
of the halter romper's front shirring. skims a nip with the reverse
of a silver dollar. its caravel yanked, with the sleep-blurred "guh,

nuda canes," counted in threes, at eye mask's soft backing,
lifted
from below ribs. quieted "sulci," rived and lobbed cross the gate
towards its assigned beau, as the adjustable band loosened to the
collar. its foam pressed, interlocked around octads, in angling to

breeze carried fragments of someone here, followed by mouren?
edged backwards slowly, turning shod of right slipper's toe post,
seeing past the transparent container's mao er duo and unstacked
plastic visor, to sidelong of a lowering of short-sleeved shoulder,
bumping shy of another, to pick at the wide boat neck of her top,
to where it was clung, on streaked logograms. clearer at sternum,
the characters for _ yuan when stepped from winded down stairs,
a couple long-armed fist pumps downward, to pulling at aquiline
pant. prodding for slotted fastener of packet pocket in ciré, to the
veined folded leaf, he opens to the pressed pleats of a tissue with
adrenal, "bit left, wilted river crab ballooning." hair divided from
the middle is slicked, stanched in the lag, hearing last of xeroxes

along grips of a forearm. while left standing, he turns to the burp
in a lava lamp, heads on end to pronotums. his shoulders bowed,
practicing infrequent and exaggerated blinks to chrome newel at
the stairs' top. fingertips drawn to lifted brows, closing lids with
first drops of rain, at the last time, he smoking a partagas, nearly
16, along the small trail past career booth, strewn with cups and
straws. the third's going on about being "bezzies," flattening the
blousy shirt across his hips, reverse turned. gazed sideways, her
eyes opening, as with rain smelt on the hot slate path. spreading
of a branched, palmate weed is said "so scurfy," in swivelling to
assumed myoclonic foot jerks, but padded base pressed to better
lean, to claim minutes. humidity and stasis in craning, sidelying,
with tollings of a church bell. thumbs meeting in lamina groove,
a sustained pin, _hand strokes near lost in intervening resonance

hochong, refers to Michael Hochong, the French/Hawaiian/Chinese dandy in the
1970s, known for his extravagant clothing.mouren, someone (mandarin)
mao er duo, snack food, shaped like cat's ears
river crab, refers to the slang term denoting censorship in China, the terms, a
near homophone of 'harmonious society', the term used by president Hu Jintao to
describe the reasoning behind censorship

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

You learned of
comrades, whom you loved, clouded, null and void with joints and bones
disclosing zero. And of volume, disclosing soundless bones and holes. For your
love spent hours and hours on soundless hymns, drones and clouds—

9

those long
morning clouds, portions of clouds and whole clouds, clouds of soundless yellow
and unknowing. Your commune offered clouds to the void. Bowed down they softly
dropped below your bones. Mouth soft, clouds of nothing softening your tongue.
Would that you followed bodies onto soil, onto a song abandoned by yellow or by
clouds of love—communal love—broadening onto an unfathomable yawning yellow,
not a shallow no, not a word or a
wound, nor a bottomless no now
frozen, now zero. You learned how the solid implodes those wounds, sometimes,
imploding those untold yellows and clouds, those hymns of snow—and how powder
dropped through a hole, around the border of a hole, towards crows who looped
round the pond, looping over an unknown love unseen by none but crows.

0

2

You learned how
hymns possessed your wounds with drones and you looked onto icons of crows,
your unknown body longing for a hole.

1

Those holes,
annulled in your songs and your learning, your rooms of nothing.

3

You studied in
those rooms how to humanize broken sounds and how to sort a song from numbers,
and though you found the contour of your acoustics somewhat boring, you crossed
their roughened country, moving under hopeless clouds towards your new-found
position.

Tuesday, December 03, 2013

You exit camera’s gaze,through the aperture,politics unknown,motives shrouded in leaves,certain as any tomb.Without limit or attitude luster is mechanical,grows reasonsmelting in summer’s heat.Hope is a vessel oflongitude’s practice,lengthening space as glasses toastskin’s translucencein a photo you tookwhen the story foundits way home to the mindof its choosing.A dreamed equation suffices for essence,being stretched overa candle’s swift burning.Grief is a body of waterspreading like fire in the branchesof a landscape painted and patiently framed.